tampered | log; in progress

log; in progress

When; Saturday, October 9th; just after midnight
Rating; PG for fightin' words and mentions of kissing underage girls.
Characters;

pharles_at_life and

conductyourself
Summary; Adorable couple has knock-down drag-out verbal fight. You are sad.
Log;

Clef hadn't been quite himself since earlier that day-- the day before, rather, as it was now after midnight - when Umi had kissed him. It wasn't really the kiss, he decided as he stood on top of a stool in the otherwise empty kitchen, chopping herbs - it was that yet again he had found himself not in control of the situation.

Not that he blamed Umi. Quite the contrary, actually. He couldn't really blame the City, either, because it had happened at home as well. There really wasn't anyone to blame but himself, but that didn't change how frustrating it was. With a grunt he abruptly stabbed the knife into the wooden cutting board and let it stand there on end as he scooped up the chopped stems and leaves into a bowl.

Then he sighed. Really, why was this bothering him? Because of what other people might think? That was it, wasn't it? He should know better.

"That's why these things happen," he muttered, rolling up his sleeves and kneading the contents of the bowl together. Caution was certainly one of his virtues, but there was such a thing as too damn much, you know?

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Presea slammed the door when she came into the house. She'd been out with the dog, enjoying the crisp night air, but now the normally-comfortable warmth of the house was grating on her. Everything was. She glared at Vigor for tracking in mud and he wisely decided to seek company elsewhere.

She could hear someone moving in the kitchen. Why in the world were they cooking so late at night? She decided to go see if she found their reasoning worthy.

Clef almost jumped at the door slamming. Now that was just unnecessary! Everyone had had a bad day today, but that was no reason to make so much noise. "Hello?" he called, not looking up. He was busy, okay.

It was Clef. She paused. If he was working at this time of night, he probably had some reason for it. And he was an adult who didn't need scolding.

"It's me," she said, lifting an eyebrow when he didn't look up.

"Oh." His words were simple, but his tone warm. He finally did look up, but he seemed distracted and subdued. "Are you alright?"

"I'm--" Not a liar, never. "Tired, I guess." Maybe that wasn't it, but she wasn't sure what it was exactly. "It was a long day. Did you have one too?"

He was oddly withdrawn, she thought.

"Yes." He hesitated for a while. "I had some issues with Umi."

"She seemed... I think she was cursed." Presea frowned. "I tried to talk her out of doing anything with it, but I don't know if I succeeded. I hope so."

"She was definitely cursed." He looks down. "I made the mistake of going to speak with her in person."

Presea... paused. Her body language was oddly closed. "Did you?"

Her response raised a few red flags for him, so he glanced up at her to gauge her reaction. It was as he feared. It was like she was just waiting for him to say something for her to get angry about.

"I didn't think she'd be... interested," he answered in his defense, a little awkwardly. "But you've obviously had a long day as well. It's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow to talk about."

"She tried to-- she--"

If he didn't think she'd be interested, but she was...

"What did you do? I thought you were going to talk her out of it." She crossed her arms, ignoring the possible escape route, and stared at him.

Of all the-- she was blaming him?! Maybe he made a mistake, maybe he didn't handle the situation properly, but he didn't have to stand there and listen to her imply that he had wanted that. She should trust him more than that! He slammed the bowl down on the counter in his frustration and began wiping his hands on a towel. No, this was no way to have a discussion. He couldn't just jump to conclusions like that and yell at her. That would only make things worse.

Deep breaths. "That was my intention."

She watched him slam the bowl down with a certain satisfaction. Now he was listening to her. Now he was reacting. Now, maybe, she could use up some of this irritated energy she had.

"You didn't say what happened," she said impatiently.

"She kissed me." There. Now that he was good and annoyed, it didn't seem that difficult to say without blushing.

Presea threw her arms wide. "What? And you let her? How could you do that?" Her voice was rising; she didn't spare any thought to the other residents of the house.

"Hey, keep it down." Clef flailed a little. He didn't want to wake everyone up, and certainly harbored no desire to air his dirty laundry to the whole house. "I-- I didn't know what I was doing. It was a mistake."

She took a step forward into his space, deliberately provoking again. "Don't tell me to keep it down," she bit out. "Talk about a mistake! I'm going to-- to-- boil you in oil until you apologize!"

She felt... honestly, a bit hurt, even though it wasn't really reasonable, even though a small part of her was saying something about curses and ridiculous behavior and -- no. She took the hurt and let it feed her irritation, fighting back the lump in her throat with anger.

If she thought she was going to intimidate him by getting in his face and threatening like that, she had another thing coming. He put a hand in the middle of her chest and firmly pushed her away. "Get away from me."

Edited 2010-10-10 06:31 (UTC)

She put her arms up defensively and took a step backward, scowling.

"Don't do that. I haven't done anything to you. Yet."

"Threatening is one thing," he uttered, picking up the knife again from where he had stabbed it into the cutting board earlier. "But using your height to try and intimidate me is simply manipulative. I have no respect for that."

"Now I'm being manipulative?" She lifted her eyebrows, but didn't move. This was Clef; he wouldn't stab her... but he was serious. "I can't help being taller than you are. I don't mind it."

She took a deep breath. "But what I do mind is that you haven't apologized yet. And if I can't boil you in oil then I'll go find some rope."

"What, apologize to you?" He gesticulated wildly with his free hand. "As if I hurt you somehow by accidentally being kissed? Exactly how self-centered can you get, Presea?!"

"You let her! You didn't tell her no, you let her! How can you accidentally get kissed? It doesn't work that way. AND I AM NOT SELF-CENTERED."

The frustration burned in her throat; something was just so wrong about this.

"YES YOU ARE AND STOP YELLING!," he yelled. "You have no concept of what that was like, and I hope you never do! It doesn't change the fact that you're the LAST one who is in any way harmed by this!"

"You're yelling too!" she had to point out. "And I'm not! I'm just - you didn't tell me! You didn't call me! I could have tried to help you!"

He snorted indignantly. "Obviously you're an expert on how to handle oneself in that kind of situation, so how come you weren't there in the first place? You have some nerve, being conspicuously absent when I need you most and then lecturing me on how you could have done a better job."

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. "Then again, you're pretty good at the former thing, aren't you?"

Yeah, he's referring to that time when she just HAD to dig up a fucking grave and jump into the underground. Ouch. He forgave her for that, though - and he meant it. He'd never get this catty. Part of him thinks there's something incredibly wrong with this, and yet... it feels so cathartic. And hurts a little. He's as angry at himself as anything else, so it's not like he minds that.

"How was I supposed to know?" She threw up her hands and turned away. "Am I a mind-reader? She's your favorite - " And at that phrase she looked back pointedly, " - so you should have known how she'd act."

Absent when he needed her most? How dare he say that! She gaped. "I've spent hours following you around trying to help you in Cephiro, and even if it hasn't happened yet for you, it will! I was always there - wait. Are you talking about Sierra? Are you talking about her grave?"

She took another step backwards, clutching at the table until her knuckles were white. Her questing fingers found something - a plate, a bowl, it didn't matter. She threw it to the ground not far from her feet, wanting the catharsis of it breaking. And she hated messes, she hated messy problems like these that might not really be anyone's fault, but she couldn't hit him for hurting her, no matter what he'd done or deserved.

"HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT? THAT'S MY SISTER, THAT WAS MY GRAVE TOO AND I ALMOST DIED AND I SAID I WAS SORRY!"

Her eyes burned and her hands were shaking, and she wasn't going to leave, no matter how it hurt.

"OUT. GET THE HELL OUT, YOU OVERGROWN BRAT!"

Clef was giving her probably the worst glare of her life and pointing at the door - the one to the rest of the house, not the one to the outside. He wasn't that cruel. "I have more important things to do in here than stand here and argue with some self-absorbed child who's just going to throw tantrums and break dishes all night! So shut your ignorant little mouth and get out of my sight or so help me I'll MAKE you leave!"

Edited 2010-10-10 08:19 (UTC)

"How could you possibly do anything worse than you already have?" She shot him a look of angry disbelief. "How could you possibly?" Her repeat was nearly a whisper.

But she wasn't going to go where he was pointing. Call it ridiculously defiant if you had to, but she wasn't taking orders from him. He didn't command her. So she crossed the room and took the door to the outside, slamming it behind her with an unsatisfying finality.

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